


i don't need anything other than you

by kaiju



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotionally Conflicted Graves, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 18:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10196066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiju/pseuds/kaiju
Summary: He doesn’t have a single clue as to why he agreed to join Grindelwald.





	

He doesn’t have a single clue as to why he agreed to join Grindelwald. Of course he’d love nothing more than to blame it on a curse, on torture, on mind control – on just about anything other than his own free will.

But that just isn’t the case.

Over the past few days, he’s been wracking his brain – asking himself questions, making sure he’s sane.

Was it _anger_?

Anger at the unproductive way MACUSA was operating. Anger at how nobody realized he had been missing for _months_. Anger that no one, not even his good friend Picquery, had thought to check up on him after they captured Grindelwald? Anger that Grindelwald turned out to be the only person who _truly_ cared?

Or was it disappointment? Sorrow? _Fear_?

Perhaps it was everything.

It’s past midnight. The cold air stings his eyes so harshly that they redden and tear up, but he doesn’t care enough to do anything about it. He stands at the edge of the Woolworth, watching as wizards frantically run in and out of the building, all reacting to the news of the newest addition to Grindelwald’s team. They’re out looking for him. Just about everyone is.

But they can’t find him up here. Under the wards that Grindelwald cast, no one can. That is – no one but Grindelwald.

The familiar gush of apparition sounds from behind him.

“There you are,” Grindelwald says like he didn’t already know where Graves was. “Come to visit your old friends? Though you could hardly call them that.”

Graves shoots him a look.

“What?” Grindelwald says, closing the gap between them. “You know it’s true.”

He wraps his arms around Graves and rests his chin on his shoulder. It’s, in a word, _intimate_. A gentle gesture of intimacy as if Grindelwald didn’t spend hours torturing him, _touching_ him, trying to pry information and pleasure from his almost lifeless body. Graves supposes it’s all water under the bridge now. This tender physical touch a sort of apology while also a reward. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, telling him he shouldn’t be okay with this. But he doesn’t know if he should listen to it. It doesn’t matter all the same.

“When will it be over?” Graves asks flatly.

“Whenever you wish, my dear.”

The pet names. Always with the _fucking_ pet names. Like they’re lovers, like they have ordinary lives, like they’re not just about to murder millions of innocent witches and wizards. Graves closes his eyes and tries not to tear Grindelwald’s arms away from him.

“We’re going back to Europe after this?”

“We can go wherever you please,” Grindelwald says smoothly.

Graves doesn’t respond.

Grindelwald starts kissing the back of his neck and immediately, he forgets about just how much he _hates_ this man. Thoughts of how wrong he is, how _evil_ he is, of how he stands for everything that Graves is against - those thoughts just... disappear. They’re replaced by thoughts of how kind he is, how _powerful_ he is, of how he’d do anything to please Graves. And then he decides that he actually likes the pet names.

Relaxing in Grindelwald’s arms, Graves tilts his head, urging him to kiss the side of his neck. Closing his eyes, he savors the way his skin tingles whenever Grindelwald’s lips make contact. The thrill, the danger of it all. He feels young and rebellious again, like a teenager sneaking out past curfew to meet his forbidden lover. Perhaps it was for this reason that he joined Grindelwald.

Had he always been so shallow?

“We’ll take over the world, you and I,” Grindelwald mutters against his skin. “The entire wizarding community will be at our beck and call. You won’t even have to lift a finger after I’m done with them.”

Graves hums. “I’d like that. Tell me more.”

Grindelwald kisses his way up, nibbling and licking at his ear.

“There won’t be a ministry – or a MACUSA for that matter. No policies, no boundaries, no rules. And _definitely_ no muggles,” Grindelwald breathes.

“No-Majs.”

“My apologies. No-Majs,” Grindelwald smiles. “There won’t be a _single_ No-Maj in our world.”

“Just you and me,” Graves says, voice thick.

“That’s right. Just you and me,” Grindelwald repeats, voice feathering off into a whisper as he slides his hand down Graves’ front, slyly slipping it into his trousers. Slowly, he closes his hand around Graves’ cock and starts fisting him. Graves moans, low and deep, like he hasn’t felt this good in a long time. He brings a hand up to Grindelwald’s hair and he _pulls_ , dragging him into an urgent kiss.

His mind falters for a second – taking him back to a moment earlier in the evening, when he told Seraphina that he was leaving, that he didn’t need MACUSA anymore. There wasn’t an ounce of shock in her expression, like she had expected it. Her face changed quickly. It dropped to a frown, then twisted into anger, into rage. _“What, are you his lapdog now?”_ She had asked. _“You’re throwing away decades of work and friendship so you can be with him? Is that it?”_

 _“Yes,”_ he said with conviction.

It was only slightly alarming that she mentioned work before friendship. In reality, it shouldn’t have surprised him at all. He’s always known her to value someone’s production over their company. Were they ever _really_ friends?

He wishes he had asked her that. He wishes he had said more.

Impatient, he twists his body so he’s facing Grindelwald and then he holds either side of his face as he leans in to kiss him deeper, longer. It’s desperate and rough, teeth clacking against each other with breaths heavy and harsh. He wants this. No – he _needs_ this. He can’t live without this.

Something tells him to open his eyes and he does. He peers out from behind Grindelwald’s face and focuses on the scenery around him. The world seems a little bit darker now. Or maybe it’s always been that way, and he’d just been refusing to see it.

He snaps out of it when suddenly, he’s pushed up against the bricks and Grindelwald’s hands are pulling his trousers down.

It all happens so quickly.

Grindelwald whispers a charm, something easy and quick, to help him along the way. And then he’s sliding into Graves and even though Graves is physically prepared, mentally – he isn’t. His mind takes a while to catch up to his body but once it does, he instinctively clenches, fighting off the intrusion. His hands don’t know where to go. Holding onto Grindelwald would be the easy solution, but he doesn’t know if his mind will let him. So he digs his nails in between the bricks and he can feel them scrape and chip away.

When he finally manages to comprehend the situation, he hears everything. The only sounds coming from Grindelwald are grunts and growls, like he’s just doing this to satisfy a craving and not because he wants to. Graves, on the other hand, isn’t as vocal. He’ll let the occasional groan slip from his lips but other than that, he tries not to make a sound. The silence makes them both vulnerable, and he’d much rather have it that way.

He also doesn’t want Grindelwald to know that he enjoys this as much as he does.

Even though it is, after all, the reason why he can’t bring himself to leave.

He hooks his leg around Grindelwald, because he thinks it’ll somehow make up for the fact that he isn’t doing anything more than just taking it. Grindelwald speeds up, thrusting remorselessly, displaying his power. He bites down on Graves’ neck, a show of dominance, of ownership. Graves can’t help but moan this time. All of a sudden, he’s overcome with an emotion that encompasses both pain and pleasure, something that _hurts_ but feels so, so good.

An emotion that always leaves him wanting more.

But then Grindelwald finishes, coming inside of him silently. With a grunt he slips out, tucking himself back into his trousers and combing his hair flat like none of this ever happened. Graves stands there, back still pressed against the wall. He lets his body calm down naturally, hands slowly falling to his sides. After catching his breath, he pulls his trousers up and fixes his hair.

Sometimes, with the way that Grindelwald uses his body, he thinks that’s all he’s good for.

But then Grindelwald steps closer and caresses his cheek. Then he kisses him softly. A kiss that sets their agreement in stone. They’re in this together. They’ll take over the world _together_.

“We’ll begin at sunrise,” Grindelwald says, turning swiftly to look down at the streets.

“Where will we start?”

Grindelwald faces him and smiles – all teeth. “Why, right here of course.”

“I’ll do it,” Graves says out of the blue. “I’ll kill the President.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to imprison her? Torture her? Force her to watch as this all unfolds?”

“She doesn’t deserve that,” he says sincerely.

Grindelwald shrugs. “Whatever you say, my dear.”

A comfortable silence settles over both of them and they watch as the night gets darker, colder. Graves likes the way the ward hums in the background. The perfect white noise behind all of the panic and confusion he hears from the Aurors below him. He can just imagine the chaos.

Tina, confused and running around the lobby, trying to wrap her head around his intentions. Queenie, standing right beside her sister, comforting her and telling her to give him the benefit of the doubt. _“He must have his reasons.”_ Picquery, sitting in her office with her fingers massaging her temple, thinking of ways to murder both him and Grindelwald.

A smile manages to sneak past his guard, slipping onto his face.

“I get the feeling that you’re enjoying this more than I am,” Grindelwald says, crossing his arms.

“We both know that this is how it’s supposed to be,” he says dryly.

“Oh, I love when you say things like that.”

There’s absolutely nothing he would change about this moment. Grindelwald strokes his face with the back of his hand, admiring him, admiring what they’re about to do together. It’ll all happen at sunrise, whether they’re ready or not. But he knows that they’re ready. They’ve been ready since the day they met.

“Just you and me,” Graves repeats.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I like to think that they're both equally horrible people
> 
> Also I feel like the love for this pairing is slowly dying out... RIP


End file.
